Yes, you are looking at somebody washing up - only cold-water at that sink!

from pit toilets toward monoliths enclosing the Professor Valley, named after Sylvester Richardson. Professor by nickname only, Richardson added to Moab's colorful history - you can read a tidbit here or the whole story while you sit in the john at Canyonlands Field Institute.

Crescent moon flecks dawnrise over tipis at Canyonlands Field Institute on Bijou Creek.

That lunar smile readied me for departure after a weeklong retreat led by favorite dharma teachers, Susie Harrington and Eric Kolvig. The time was right for leaving those red rocks I embrace as second home. Truly awesome place - more photos soon.

Pre-winter chill can't fend off sun's warmth. But, oh, it was cold in late October's frosty dark with no campfire to warm my first-ever tipi sleepover. I was grateful to have an extra sleeping bag to fend off nightime's near-freezing temperatures. No cold could still my midnight mind-walks - wild dreams careened far outside this double-down cocoon.

Sitting meditation along creek or walking meditation among silent stone deepened my practice, and I'm back on the cushion again - almost every day. Awareness opened to new dimensions that are best shared in person. If you want to know more, let's talk soon about mops and ants and awareness that might just be infinite.

Must admit that my body welcomed return home: to savor long shower, hot tub soak, and root-deep hairwash after eight days in near-wilderness.

Sent loving-kindness (metta) far and wide while on retreat - maybe you caught some?